


i drove through the desert last night

by MissAtomicBomb (mrs_nerimon)



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Super AU, let me live in my imaginary linstead world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_nerimon/pseuds/MissAtomicBomb
Summary: Sure, perfect, definitely. Let me just meet my one-time-almost-fiancé for breakfast before we work together for the first time in four years.Erin visits Chicago; Jay finds his life changes faster than he realizes.
Relationships: Jay Halstead/Erin Lindsay
Comments: 19
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ah, so the bad news is i binged cpd, fell for linstead fully knowing they don’t work out, and then wrote this so i can live in my happy little au world. here's like an eventual 15k kid fic for a pairing who will literally never interact in canon again. that's pandemic for ya.

It starts off easy enough.

There’s a vic from New York and a perp who blindsides Burgess and makes a run for it. They lose him in the foot traffic, and Burgess beats herself up for 12 hours until Voight sends her and Ruzek to NYC to find the guy. Jay thanks his lucky stars he’s not picked for the flight, because the last thing he wants at 10 pm is to deal with anybody at O’Hare. He and Upton share a drink and laugh about how Burgess and Ruzek are probably stuck on a tarmac for five hours at this point with the snow, and then he goes home and passes out for a tight eight hours. Same thing as always.

Ruzek and Burgess are back in two or three days, suspect in tow, and the whole thing is forgotten about.

Mostly.

He comes into work the following Monday balancing a full coffee tray; he filled up his frequent flyer coupon and figured he might as well do the nice thing and buy for everybody. Upton’s touchy-feely style might be rubbing off on him at this point. Only the poor barista working alone took ten minutes to make four coffees, and he comes in late to get an earful from Voight about responsibility and expectations. He’s already in a foul mood when Ruzek calls out to him from the back of the squadroom, an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Hey, Jay, you got a sec?” He’s fiddling with his phone, nervous energy pouring out of him. Seven years as a detective and he’s still got the most obvious tells.

Jay crosses the room, narrowly avoiding Rojas with a bagful of fast food, and steps into Ruzek’s little corner.

“Look, I just- when we were in New York, I... Burgess said I shouldn’t but I think you deserve to know-“

 _God_ , if this is more drama about Ruzek’s love life, Jay’s going to be facing a suit from IA for assaulting a fellow officer very soon.

“One of the guys in the robbery was on some fed watchlist, right? So, we gotta go around tons of red tape to get any kind of info, they’re jamming us up at all ends. Assholes. Just no cooperation-“

“Is there a point to this story?” Jay snaps, and Ruzek lets out a flat sigh. 

“Look. I called Lindsay while we were there, okay? Figured she’d give us a hand.”

Oh. It’s _his_ stupid love life Ruzek’s worried about. Jay crosses his arms, tries to act like talking of Erin for the first time in months (a year?) doesn’t make the hole in his chest gape a little wider. 

"How’s- How’s she doing?” He hopes, desperately, that that question sounds casual.

Adam’s face tells him it decidedly does not.

“She’s good. She’s great, actually. But, it’s just...” Ruzek tightens his shoulders, almost like he’s gearing up for a fight. Jay wonders what could possibly come next that’s giving Adam, one of the most blunt, foot in mouth people he knows, pause.

“Well, we- Kim and I- we went over to her place, right? She’s uptown, it’s really nice, actually. Great view. Can see the park and-“

“Adam,” he barks, and the other man falls silent. “What are you getting at?”

Ruzek sighs. “We met her kid, okay?”

It feels vaguely like someone dunked his head in ice water. Even though he has no right, he feels a flash of jealousy for whatever man Erin Lindsay felt was worth sticking around for.

“His name's Stevie. He’s real cute. She’s got him a race car bed and everything.” Ruzek chokes out a laugh, but sounds more forced than anything else.

Jay feels himself nod. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say to this- G _ood for her? Congrats?_ He’s happy she’s moved on, found someone else. Had a family. She deserves that, really.

“I- that’s nice. That’s good,” he manages, and Ruzek leans in closer, whispering like he’s sharing a secret.

“He was really smart, you know? He was telling us about his favorite animals and some TV show about dogs who are cops. He seems like a great kid.”

He’s starting to get more annoyed by every word that comes from Ruzek’s mouth. It’s fine, it’s good, he’s happy for Erin. Doesn’t mean he really wants to hear about her perfect nuclear family while he sit behind a desk and drinks with the same person every other night.

“And she’s not,” Adam clears his throat, whatever is stuck in there doesn’t want to come out. “Like, she’s not married.”

Is that what he’s on about? For a guy who goes through girlfriends like they’re going out of style, he’s surprised Ruzek would be so shocked at a single mom.

“A lot of people have kids when they aren’t married.”

“No, I mean- I don’t think there’s a dad in the picture. Jay, the kid’s almost four. He told Kim his birthday was in February. Big blue eyes. He’s-“

“Ruzek!” Voight storms out of the office, jacket in hand, interrupting this heart-to-heart about single parents and all the lost opportunities in Jay’s life.

“Let’s go,” Voight nods towards the stairs, staring a hole through the both of them as Adam stands and stares. “Now!”

“If I were you, I’d give Erin a call. Just to check in.” Ruzek squeezes his shoulder before he takes off, a puzzling display of friendly concern.

“Thank God you’re not me, Adam,” he calls after them, but the metal door is already swinging shut. Atwater comes up behind him to ask if he’s trying to unload those coffees any time soon, and the whole weird, roundabout conversation is put to rest.

At least, he tells himself it is. That night he lays beneath the covers in an empty bedroom and imagines, for half a second, a world where just a few things went differently for him. He thinks of the ring tucked back into the safety deposit box, of the weight of it in his hands. The way it felt against his fingers. He thinks of waking up in bed with a familiar body, until the image lulls him to sleep.

* * *

He pushes the memory aside as best as he can in favor of alphabetically naming fruit until his brain numbs itself to sleep. 

Jay tries to put it all out of his mind after that day. Erin has a son, and a family, and that’s her life now. He has this job, and a good partner, and that’s his life now. They just didn’t fit the way he wanted. Sometimes that’s it; that’s all. And there’s no use wondering about the big "what if" when things aren’t going to change. 

The feds still want a piece of the guy from NY, so they’re sending someone over to deal with him on other charges. It’s a headache and red tape, but it’s nothing he has to actively worry about. Or so he hopes.

Voight announces they’re tying up lose ends with the robbery, he’s gonna have Burgess coordinate with the liason.

“Lucky for us, they’re not sending a total snake,” Voight has a little gleam in his eye, one they haven’t seen in a very long time. It almost makes the hair on Jay’s neck stand up.

“Erin is going to be stopping by on behalf of the FBI.”

“Erin Lindsay?” Ruzek pipes up, just in case there’s another Erin they all know who currently works for the FBI in New York.

Voight doesn’t bother to answer that one. He gives Ruzek a hard look, before turning around to go back in his office.

Jay tries to act like his stomach isn’t threatening to drop from his body. Across the room, Hailey’s sending him a piercing stare, but he really doesn’t want to go there right now.

Somehow, it’s Atwater who breaks the silence. “Think she’ll still like the pizza?”

Upton lets out a nervous giggle, and suddenly the room’s buzzing again. Ruzek pulls Rojas aside to ask about paperwork, Hailey’s desk phone rings, and Jay’s left alone with his thoughts. Never a good place to be. 

* * *

He’s three beers deep at Molly’s when his phone rings. Unknown number, but that tingly part of his spine is lighting up, so he answers it anyway. 

“Halstead.”

“Jay,” she says, and there’s a bomb going off in his head. He knew it would be her, had to be her, because they’re about to come face to face for the first time in four years, and maybe some things should be aired out before they have an audience. 

“Hi,” he whispers back. 

“Bad time?”

“No, no, it’s good. I’m good.” He states, and if he sounds noticeably intoxicated, she pretends not to notice. 

There’s a scratching on the phone, like she’s switching it from ear to ear. Jay’s almost afraid to breathe, in case any sound he makes will scare her away. 

“I’ll be in tomorrow at ten,” she says. 

“Yeah, I heard. From Voight.”

Erin hums. “How cold is it there?”

“Like 15 degrees,” he forces a laugh. “Snowed all week.”

“Ugh,” she groans. This doesn’t feel normal, but it doesn’t feel as earth shattering as he expected. Just two former coworkers making small talk about the Chicago weather. _What else would it be?_

“What time are you called tomorrow?”

“9,” he answers, vaguely aware of how tightly his fingers are gripping the phone. “Do you need something? I can come earlier.”

“Actually, uh-“ she sounds different. Older maybe. Worn down. “We should meet before. Is that okay?”

He nods, before remembering this is a phone conversation and she can’t hear him. 

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine.”

“Maybe 8? The diner on Pritchard.”

He’s hit with a far off memory of Erin dumping piles of sugar into the station coffee and rolling her eyes when he teased her about it. It’s like watching a rerun of some show he’d completely forgotten about; he can see the light hit her hair in the break room, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she gives him a jab in the shoulder. 

“Jay?”

“Yeah. I mean, sure. That works.” Sure, perfect, definitely. Let me just meet my one-time-almost-fiancé for breakfast before we work together for the first time in four years. 

“Great,” Erin sounds relieved; maybe she expected the worst. He certainly did. “I’ll see you then?”

“See you,” he manages, and the line clicks. 

He order three more shots and closes the bar down with some rookies from the 32nd. It’s 3:30 by the time he gets home, crawling into bed with his jeans still on like some frat boy.

It’s been years, maybe a decade since he’s drank like this. It’ll hurt tomorrow, but maybe the pounding headache will lessen the knot tightening in his gut as he thinks of seeing Erin’s face again. 

* * *

She looks _good_ , honestly. Selfishly, he had hoped she wouldn't, because he has bags under his eyes and bruises from last week's chase still on his arms. Her hair’s cropped short, barely under her chin, and it’s returned to her natural brown once again. She’s lazily pushing a spoon around a mug full of coffee, and part of him wants to take a moment to just look at her. It’s not two seconds before she notices, because she’s a good cop, because she’s Erin and she used to know him like the back of her hand. 

Used to. Maybe still does. Do you ever stop knowing someone like that?

“Hey,” she twists a smile, and he slips into the booth across from her. 

“Hey.” His head aches about as badly as he expected, but he took a cold shower and popped two aspirin this morning, so he hopes it’s not as noticeable. 

“How’s... Everything?” She asks, because he guesses there’s not really anything else to ask. 

“Good. Everything is good,” Jay watches the waitress pour his coffee, bored expression on her face, like this is truly any other morning. He envies her. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” Erin says once the girl is gone. She’s still futzing with the spoon, pushing it round in circles. The noise echoes in his head, a soft scratching. “I- this is weird, right?”

They both manage awkward, over-the-top chuckles, like they’re auditioning for community theatre. 

“I mean, this is probably good, ‘cause I couldn’t avoid New York forever. I’m a huge fan of Thanksgiving parades, so. That would have sucked.”

Erin gives a widening grin, then ducks her head. “Still funny,” she mumbles to the formica, and he’s not sure what to respond. 

“I try.”

Erin chews on the inside of her lip. He sees the dip in the spot just above her chin, knows the tell because he’s seen her do it a thousand times before. 

“Did Ruzek tell you I saw him and Burgess?”

“Uh, yeah. Mentioned it.”

She’s ripping at the paper place-mat now, tearing off tiny sections. There’s a hole in dishwasher repair, he notices. 

“Did he tell you about Stevie?”

Jay nods stiffly. She releases a low sigh, hands stilling on the counter, then looks back up at him. 

“I thought you’d call,” her voice is smaller than usual. Unsure. He can’t remember when Erin was unsure of anything. 

“Uh, I think I tried,” he takes a sip of coffee just to stop squeezing his hands in his lap. “Number was disconnected. Maybe two years ago?”

There’s no “I think”- he remembers, vividly, dialing that number with sloppy fingers, trying to block out the sound of Antonio demanding he hang up, this wasn’t good for him. 

She quirks an eyebrow. “No, I mean- I gave Adam my info and everything. I figured he’d tell you anyway.”

To be fair, he might have been getting there, but their conversation was so roundabout and awkward, Jay never really gave him the chance. 

“But I’m glad we got to come out, ‘cause I just-“ she sighs down into the coffee cup. “I was so embarrassed, honestly.”

Jay’s not sure where she’s going with this, but he’s spent enough one sided conversations with Voight to know that sometimes you just maintain eye contact and nod, and eventually what needs to be said comes out. 

“After we saw Adam, and Kim, I couldn’t... I didn’t want to keep things like this, you know?”

He doesn’t know. He has very little clue what she’s talking about, but he’s trying very hard to not let that show. 

“So?” Erin questions, looking up at him with dark eyes. She manages a tense smile, pursed lips and nervous gaze. She's scared of something, he realizes.

Jay blinks. “So?” 

“You can hate me. I’m sure you do-“

“I really-“

“I don’t have an excuse. I was just alone, in a new city, and I made decisions. For myself, and for Stevie. And I don’t know if they were the right ones, but I’m here now, and we can-“

She’s still talking but the sound seems to have switched off in his brain. She’s serious, far too serious for a _“hey, I met somebody in New York and had a baby and I’m sure it’s kinda weird for us, but no hard feelings right?”_

Ruzek’s face floats in his memory; the concerned look, the comments on the kid’s appearance. He’d spent so long icing out the thought of Erin, that anything further didn’t even enter the realm of possibility. 

There’s fire running through his veins again; he thinks he can hear the clock on the wall behind them. It's ticking so loudly, there's gotta be something wrong with it. He can feel sweat on his neck, gathering on his chest. He’s 75% sure this is what Will might call a “panic attack.” 

“Jay, I swear, it wasn’t to hurt you.”

He believes her. Erin’s a lot of things; harsh, solitary, dedicated beyond all reason. She’s not cruel. 

“So, he is-“ the word is stuck so deep inside of him, buried beneath years of his own daddy issues and PTSD and 80 other things he’d rather address than the current situation that’s unfolding. “He’s mine. He’s my son.”

Erin nods, and the world feels tilted. 

“Oh,” he whispers, and the sound barely travels across the table. _Oh_. What else can he say?

“I wanted to call you a hundred times, I really did.” She sounds guilty now. Part of him wants her to feel that way, to live with the knowledge that she deprived him of a choice for four years. Deprived him of a whole life. 

Instead, he just mutters “ _oh_ ” again, like a record skipping. 

Erin tilts her head. “Do you want to yell at me? You can yell at me.”

She’s talking so matter of factly. If he had his wits about him he’d make a joke about how this couldn’t be her first paternity reveal conversation, but that would only make things far worse, and it’s not like his brain is really processing wise cracks right now. 

“How-“ he swallows, takes a long, slow breath like the group leader used to tell him. In and out. Picture a buoy in the water, rising and falling with the tide. 

“How is he doing?”

Erin smiles thinly; he knows that smile. Pity, he thinks. 

“He’s really great. He’s in a day program, and he’s always bringing home drawings. He loves animals- won’t stop begging me for a kitten,” Erin laughs. “He wants to name it Rufus.”

_What a funny first thing to know about your son._

“Here,” Erin pulls out her phone, starts scrolling through pictures. “You wanna see?”

The kid is adorable. Jay cradles then phone with shaking hands, taking in the freckles on his cheeks, the curve of his chin. He’s not sure when he started sniffling, but Erin slides him some napkins across the table. 

The boy looks just like him, but he can see Erin in the face. The narrow jaw, the bright smile. He can see Will and his mom staring back at him too, in the curl of Stevie’s hair and the way his nose sticks up, just a little. 

He wants to scream and cry at the same time. Erin reaches across the table and squeezes his forearm, and somewhere in the back of his mind, it registers as the first contact they’ve had in four years. 

“I’m sorry,” she says in that soft voice, the one he pretends he doesn’t still dream about. He stares down at the photo -the little boy in a cowboy costume, Stetson too big for his head- and tries to calm the beating of his heart. 

“He’s kind, and he’s thoughtful. And he loves his books, and trains, and he was so excited to take the plane over here. He talked the flight attendant’s ear off.”

 _Over here_. He hadn’t considered that yet, hadn’t thought that in the span of a day he might find out he has a child and then, in fact, meet that child. Weren’t you supposed to get 9 months to prepare for that?

Technically, Jay supposes he’s had 4 years. 

“He’s staying with a friend, for today. But, you know, if you wanted to come by tonight.” 

He’s nodding before she finishes the sentence. Yes, _yes_ , of course he does. More than anything. More than he kind of wants to go into the bathroom and punch a mirror right now. 

“Yes,” he says, and the tears are hitting his lips now, and this would be extremely embarrassing if he had any sense of self awareness right now. 

Erin looks... Distraught. Hurt. There’s maybe even shame crossing her face as he sits across the table and cries over a picture of some kid he’s never met and a fat beagle in Central Park. 

He wants to be mad. Surely he will be, after the shock has worn off and he thinks of the past four years where he had no clue. Kept in the dark about a life he was responsible for. But he can’t feel anything more than regret as Erin takes the phone back, squeezes his hand as gently as possible. 

The waitress swings by to ask if they need a refill, catches sight of him furiously trying to wipe tears away, and promptly spins on her heel and leaves. 

“So,” Erin clears her throat, folds her hands on the table. Her wrist brushes his fingers, just barely. “Work is going to be kind of weird.”

* * *

That’s the biggest understatement of his life. Jay spends most of the day trying to spend as much time on the computer as possible, because if he’s pouring over files he can’t be thinking about literally everything else.

Erin’s there for two hours, three tops. She gets hugs and high fives and introductions, and he tries desperately to put on his best neutral face. 

_Just another day at the office with the woman you used to love. The one you just found out had your baby three years ago._

His hands shake all afternoon. Kevin makes a crack about it, but Jay can’t even find it in him to bite back. It’s all he can think about, the boy’s face plastered to his brain. Light brown hair, wide blue eyes. Little freckles around his nose. 

Hailey passes him a coffee with a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” she mumbles. “If you wanna dip out early, I can-“

“No, no. I’m fine,” he leans back in the chair with a forced casualness that makes her sigh. Surely she knows him too well to buy that for a second, but she lets him off the hook with a pat on the shoulder. She must think he’s a wreck just because Erin’s here. 

That’s a blow to his ego he could have lived without; all his coworkers thinking he can’t even handle seeing an ex-girlfriend without taking several anxiety trips to the bathroom.

Erin leaves after lunch to call her boss. She texts (same unknown number- he’s going to have to add her to his contacts again, and isn’t that a strange thought) to meet at the hotel restaurant at 7:30. 

Should he bring something? What says “sorry for not being a part of your life for almost four years, but I didn’t know you were a thing?” Do kids still like action figures?

7:00 hits and he’s read the same document at least three times. He’s supposed to be scanning for a name but he can’t keep it straight in his head, like his brain is suddenly unable to retain information that isn’t Marriott Suites Bar and Grille, 7:30 pm.

Hailey pulls on her jacket to leave and he can feel her staring at him from across the room. He tries to placate her with a smile, but she sets her mouth in that steady line that means she knows some shit is going on and she’s not going to back down.

“You wanna grab a drink?”

“Busy. Tonight.” Jay types a nonsense sentence so it seems like he’s doing real work. She crosses the distance and leans over his computer, eyebrows arched.

“What’s going on with you?” She asks, lowering her voice so Burgess, still stuck filling out plane vouchers, doesn’t hear. “And I don’t think it’s just Lindsay.”

Damn, it’s almost like he works with a bunch of detectives.

“Family emergency,” he says smoothly, because it’s only half a lie. 

“Is Will okay?”

 _Will_. Christ, what’s he going to tell Will?

“Yeah. I just… Got some news.”

For half a second, it looks as if she’s going to press for more, but then she nods to herself, pushing back from the desk.

“Okay,” she gives him a smile, too kind and sweet for how strange he’s acting. “See you tomorrow.”

Jay nods. At some point, next week or next month or maybe in a year, he’ll have to tell Upton and the rest of the squad about it, won’t he? That thought almost drives him to Molly’s to finish off a round beforehand, but his phone buzzes.

**_Here now, if you’re free._ **

Jay’s fairly certain his feet don’t touch the ground as he takes off. The drive is five seconds or maybe twenty minutes, he can’t be sure, but he makes it and he’s here and there’s something entirely new waiting on the other side of the glass doors.

Erin’s sitting at the bar, head bent over her phone. He’s unsure how to announce his presence, so he kind of just clears his throat and she looks up.

“Hey,” she slides over the drink sitting in front of her; bourbon, their usual. “Hope Voight didn’t keep you too late.”

“Uh, no. Everybody checked out a little bit ago,” he takes a long sip, hoping it’ll calm his nerves, but it only makes the fire in his stomach grow.

“Annie’s dropping him off soon, so.” She nudges the glass again. “I’d get it in now.”

He follows her advice, taking another gulping sip before she looks over his shoulder and her whole expression changes. Jay turns on the stool, heart seemingly leaving his body as he watches the little boy light up when he sees Erin. He gives a big grin, tiny teeth shining in the cheap hotel light.

“Mama!” He sprints for Erin, who hops down and kneels to hug him in half a second. The image makes his heart pang, for too many reasons.

The friend -Annie- says something to him, but Jay’s trying to drink in everything else about this moment that he barely registers, beyond a nodded thanks.

“Stevie,” Erin strokes his cheek, messes his hair. “There’s somebody I want you to meet.” She stands up, holding the kid in her arms. 

It’s his moment. Jay feels his mouth run dry, his hands clam up. He didn’t know three year olds could make you this freaking nervous. 

“Hey, bud.” _Shit_. How do you talk to kids again? “My name’s Jay.”

The boy smiles wide, but ducks his face into Erin’s chest, like he’s embarrassed all the same. 

“Say hi, baby,” Erin encourages. Stevie sticks his head out again. 

“Hi, Jay,” he mumbles, and Jay can’t tell if it’s a laugh or a sob that comes from his mouth. 

“It’s really nice to meet you, Stevie.” He brushes the boy’s arm gently. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Stevie looks up at Erin, as if confirming his story. Truly his mother’s son. Erin gives him a smile and a nod, so Stevie looks back at him with a grin of his own. 

Jay gives his t shirt a soft tug- Giants, and if he had to bet, from one of Erin’s new coworkers. 

Well. Not so new anymore. 

“You a football fan?” Jay asks, and Stevie shrugs. 

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes? What about... baseball?”

Stevie nods sharply. “Yes! Mama took me.”

“To a baseball game?” 

“Yes. We got.... Hot dogs.” Stevie declares. He's moved out from hiding in Erin’s torso, and reaches a hand out towards him, finger pointing.

“I like your necklace,” Stevie says, and Jay’s hands go to the badge hanging on his chest. 

“Oh, thanks, buddy.” He pulls it off without thinking, holding the shield out towards the boy. Stevie takes it eagerly, inspecting the metal. His little fingers tap against it, so Jay slides minutely closer and helps slip it over his head. 

“There. You look pretty good in that,” he smiles, and Stevie giggles. He looks up at his mom with pride, as if to show off, and Jay wants to keep this moment in his mind forever. 

“Your mom used to wear one just like that.” 

Stevie gapes. “Really?” He asks in awe, and Erin chuckles. A real laugh, not some tinned response to diffuse the situation. 

“Yeah, really, baby.” She rubs circles on his back, the gesture so natural. Jay wonders when that happens, when you just know exactly what your kid needs right now. 

“Hey, Stevie,” he starts, and the kid looks up from inspecting the shield. “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Stevie mumbles, squirming in Erin’s arms. “Can we eat dinner?”

Erin nods towards the restaurant, then sets him down to walk between them. He seems big for his age, but Jay definitely doesn’t know enough about toddlers or growth development to be sure. Stevie walks with a vice grip on Erin’s hand, his fingers tight on her palm. Jay wants to give him his hand too, but the boy doesn’t reach for it, and it feels too hard to reach out only to meet empty air.

Kid’s dinner is, unsurprisingly, chicken nuggets. Erin picks at pasta and he order a sandwich he has no intention of eating, but it’s something to do with his hands as he watches Stevie drown the nuggets in ketchup.

“He really likes the dino ones,” Erin says, and Stevie looks up at the mention. “Right?”

“Yes, dinosaurs!” Stevie opens his mouth full of chicken, and Erin sends him a sharp look. 

“Hey, no way. Close it.” 

He does as she instructs, and Jay stifles a laugh.

“Are they good?” He asks, and the kid nods. He grabs a nugget and holds it out towards Jay, offering.

“Oh, thank you, bud.” It’s been a long time since he ate a chicken nugget, but it’s pretty solid, and pretty drenched in watery ketchup.

“You know, I like the dinosaurs better too,” he whispers, and Stevie giggles so loudly the couple in the booth beside them look back over their shoulders.

Erin has an unrecognizable look on her face as she watches them. It feels like not too long ago that he understood every move she made, every smile she gave. But too much time and too many changes have passed, and now she feels like such a mystery.

They box up the remaining food, and Erin carries an increasingly sleepy Stevie into the elevator. It feels weird when the toddler isn’t babbling to them; there’s too much they could each say, so it’s like they don’t want to say anything at all.

“Jay,” Stevie mumbles into her shirt, hands reaching towards him.

“Yeah?”

“You come see Peanut?”

He glances at Erin, who’s smiling softly into Stevie’s hair. “Peanut?”

“His elephant,” she whispers, and Jay feels himself smile.

“Yeah, I’ll come see Peanut. Is he big?”

“Huge!” Stevie holds his hands out to demonstrate, knocking Erin in the chin with his palm. She catches his hands gently, giving a kiss to each as he settles back down on her shoulder. 

Peanut is a pajama clad stuffed elephant that Stevie holds tightly to his chest, rubbing his face against it. Jay sits on the floor of the hotel room, hands around his knees, watching the boy press kisses to the nose of a well-loved stuffed animal, and feels something in his heart shift.

“I’m gonna shower,” Erin squeezes his shoulder as she passes, and Jay looks up with wide eyes.

“You- Okay,” he manages. She’s leaving them alone. That’s gotta be a good sign, right? He watches Erin turn down the hall until a blur of grey is thrust into his view.

“Look at his tail!” Stevie holds the elephant in his face ass-first, and Jay can’t help the laughter that spills out.

Stevie joins in, and before he knows it the boy has collapsed in his lap, hugging the elephant to his chest.

“Elephants are my favorite,” he informs Jay, making the plush dance across his lap.

“Elephants are very cool,” Jay agrees. “I heard you like cats, too.”

Stevie’s eyes go wide, and he turns around quickly to face him. “Yes, yes, Mama’s gonna get me a cat.”

“Is she?”

“Black cat! Rufus.”

“Rufus.” Jay strokes the kid’s hair; soft as silk, sweetest thing he’s probably ever smelled. He thinks of being ten, begging his mom to let him grow his hair out so he looked like a rock star. He wants to hold Stevie like this for ages, wants to think of only this moment for the rest of his life.

“Jay,” Stevie reaches up a hand and touches his cheek. His nails scrape the stubble, his eyes intense as he focuses on Jay’s face.

“Yeah, bud?”

Stevie doesn’t have a follow up. He just keeps his hand on Jay’s face, before he starts laughing maniacally and falls back into his lap.

“Man, you are funny, you know that?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Stevie agrees. “I’m funny.”

“You’re funny,” Jay squeezes his sides so the kid erupts in laughter again. He feels a different kind of emotion in his chest; content, happiness, joy. Fulfillment, maybe. He wants this, wants the kid, wants a life with him in it.

The shower’s still running, Erin still preoccupied, so he places his heart in his mouth.

“Stevie, you know something?”

The boy hums.

“Does your mom ever talk about your dad?”

Stevie’s face falls for a moment, and Jay wants to take it back. Maybe Erin was right, he shouldn’t know, can’t know. 

“He lives far away,” Stevie responds, like it’s an explanation he’s heard before. Jay feels his gut twist.

“He does, yeah. But I’m sure that he loves you very, very much.”

Stevie seems to consider this for a long moment, before he nods.

“Yeah,” he decides, head leaning back to rest on Jay’s chest. 

“You know, I-“ _How exactly do you do this? How do you apologize for missing three years of somebody’s life in a few sentences?_ “I loved your mom, very much.”

“And when you love somebody, you know, you want to have kids, sometimes. And sometimes it doesn’t-“

Stevie’s eyes are wandering around the room, going to the muted TV and the leftovers on the hotel table. What does “I wanted to marry your mom” mean when you’re three and a half?

“Hey, Stevie,” Jay squeezes his hands; so small. Soft. “I’m your daddy, okay? That’s- your mom and I... I’m your dad.”

The kid takes in this information silently. He looks down at the floor for a long moment, expression far too serious for a child not even in kindergarten, before he glances back up. 

“Okay,” he says plainly.

Jay takes a shaky breath, tries to calm the sea inside of him. “Okay?”

Stevie holds up Peanut again, making him climb the space between them.

“Your mom was right. I do live far away from you. And I wish... I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be with you.”

The kid only tosses the stuffed animal at him, because he's three, and things like fatherhood and lineage don't really matter so much.

The bathroom door opens as Jay squeezes the elephant in his hands, wonders how you just get used to seeing something so perfect everyday.

"Hey, you're next, buddy," Erin reaches down and scoops the kid up in her arms as he flails to get free. "Bath time."

Stevie whines and protests, and Jay uses the distraction to take a deep breath, calm the sea rising inside him.

"I should-" He gets to his feet, watches Erin wrangle the kid towards the bathroom. "I should head out."

She pauses, one arm around Stevie's waist, the other pushing her wet hair from her eyes. "Okay," she nods. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Are you- you guys going back, soon?" It's hard to have a conversation when a child is refusing to get clean, shouting at his mom and trying his hardest to get away from her hold.

"Sunday," Erin looks at him in a way he hasn't seen in years; care, concern, maybe. There's a softness in her eyes that he missed even in the months before she left. "We'll see you again."

It's a promise. The hard part still isn't over, Jay reminds himself; they have a hundred other things to talk about now. But as the hotel door swings shut, he thinks of tiny fingers on his face and Erin's warm eyes, and that's enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so excited there are still other linstead shippers out there lol. canon who??

Jay wakes up in the same bed to the same clinking of the fan he keeps promising to fix, and it takes a moment before he remembers nothing’s actually the same as it was yesterday. Nothing is going to feel the same for him again.

He goes to the district early, because sitting around at home drinking too much coffee and trying to keep himself from texting Erin sounds like a worse use of his time. Platt ggives him her usual warm greeting of a wordless stare, and he bounds up the stairs to a mostly empty room.

Mostly. Burgess is standing by her desk, unloading her bag like she also just got in. She glances back over her shoulder and smiles far too big for 7:30 in the morning.

“Hey!”

Jay nods back, taking another gulp of cheap convenience store coffee. It’s a step above what they serve in the break room, but that’s not saying much.

He’s shrugging off his jacket as Burgess steps around his desk, smile twisting on her face.

“Early morning?”

“Yeah, just figured I’d get a head start on stuff.”

“Right, yeah. So prepared.”

Jay forces a light chuckle, but he already has an idea where this conversation is going.

“You know, Hailey said you were acting a little weird yesterday,” Burgess rolls back and forth on the balls of her feet, clasping her hands in front of her. “And if you don’t want to talk about, that’s cool. I totally get it. Like, your personal business is your business.”

It’s funny how much Burgess has grown into her own person and yet still exudes this energy like she’s not quite sure if she belongs in the room with the rest of them. She’s full of contradictions; confident and insecure, self righteous and self doubting all in the same breath.

“I know it’s really weird to see Erin again,” Kim lays a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “And, um, I mean, I know about like- the other thing, too. So, I just wanted to let you know. If you need anything, or if you want to talk.”

She’s sweet. Jay remembers seeing Adam after she was in the hospital, the dull look in his eyes. He thought he‘d seen all the pain and loss you could experience, but that look was a new one.

“Thanks, Kim,” he says, and she smiles brightly. “I really appreciate that.”

She nods. “Of course. I mean it, too.”

He knows she does. Burgess is too good, sometimes. Too good to be here, to be in this job that takes everything and gives her so little in return.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it.” She steps away with an awkward giggle, smoothing the front of her coat. “Just- let me know, Jay. And say hi to Erin for me, okay?”

He smiles. “I will,” he offers, and she slides back to the corner.

It’s no easier to concentrate than it was yesterday, but at least now his brain isn’t focused on the questions. He has the same two and a half hours to play on repeat instead; to remember the way the little boy felt in his arms, watching Erin hold him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The rest of the squad keeps their distance- he doesn’t know if they know, somehow, or if they’re just treating him with kid gloves because he was as useful as a first day rookie yesterday.

He tries to keep focus, but all of his old tricks are failing, and his brain won’t stop wondering where Erin and Stevie are, what they’re doing. When he can see them again.

Rojas and Atwater go to grab lunch for the team and he pulls out his phone to check for messages, but there’s nothing there. He takes a look around- Ruzek’s on a call, Upton’s talking with Voight- and thinks they won’t miss him for two minutes if he steps outside.

It’s freezing, his hands already going half numb as he scrolls to find her name, and seeing _Erin Lindsay_ on his call log still feels more than a little strange.

It rings and rings, and he’s about to hang up, convinced he’ll go to voicemail, when she finally answers. 

“Hey, Jay,” she sounds out of breath, commotion in the background. 

“Hey, you busy?”

“We’re ice skating, actually,” she answers, and he hears what sounds like Stevie calling out in the background. “I think both my feet are frozen solid.”

“Oh, no,” he lets out a laugh. It’s strange to think. Erin hated the cold, the snow. He used to have to bribe her out of bed on days off when it was snowing. But here she was, 25 degrees and taking a kid ice skating.

“We’re not far from downtown, if you want to swing by.”

“Yeah,” he replies before he thinks the question through; it’s barely 3, and he and Upton are supposed to be calling witnesses for the rest of the afternoon. “I should- I should check with the team, though.”

“Yeah, sure,” Erin says something to the kid that he can’t quite hear, then hops back on. “We’re gonna get warm somewhere, I can text you the address. If they ever let you out.”

He’s fairly certain Voight would actually prefer if he headed out, because it’s clear his head is in the clouds and Ruzek’s had to ask him twice to follow up with ballistics.

“Sounds good,” he wonders how casual he actually sounds about this whole thing, because every time he talks to Erin his heart still pounds in his chest.

“We’ll see you soon,” she offers, and Jay can’t help the smile he feels spread across his face.

The door behind him opens, and Hailey sticks her head out, groaning as another gust of wind blows through. “You still working?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just-“ he jogs inside, so they can have this conversation without his partner shivering. “I was just talking to Lindsay.”

“All good?”

“Yeah, of course. All good.”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. He almost wants her to call him on it this time, because part of him is bursting to confide in anyone and everyone, but she only smiles knowingly, like she’s already in the loop.

“You wanna go?”

“It’s not a problem, if you need me-“

“I can finish with Kevin,” Upton pats his shoulder, smiling to herself. “Go ahead.”

“I owe you,” he promises, and Hailey laughs, only it sounds just a little less than funny.

“You owe me several!” She calls after him, and Jay gives a thumbs up over his shoulder. She's right; after this week is over he's going to owe many people _many_ shots.

* * *

It's blistering outside but they’re tucked in the corner of a mostly empty cafe, Erin rubbing Stevie’s hands between her own. He’s laughing at something, giggling as she blows on his fingers to warm them up.

Jay waves and Stevie perks up, excitedly pulling away from his mom and waving back. He pops up out of his seat when he approaches, trying to jump to his feet on the bench before Erin sits him back down.

“Jay, guess what?” He leans forward across the table, hands banging on the wood.

“What?”

“We went ice skating,” Stevie declares proudly.

“Wow, really? I bet you were pretty good.”

“He was great,” Erin sends him a smile, and in the dark of the cafe her eyes seem to spark. “Only fell a half dozen times.”

“That is really impressive,” Jay offers, and Stevie nods very seriously. “I think that might even deserve a hot chocolate?”

The kid’s face lights up, looking to Erin for permission.

He gets a coffee for himself and debates one for Erin too- she used to down caffeine all times of day or night along with the rest of them, but now she’s got normal hours and a kid who probably gets her up at sunrise, so he can’t imagine she’s staying up til 3 watching Netflix anymore.

He gets two hot chocolates instead, placing one in front of Stevie with a warning to give it a minute, it’s really hot, and the other in front of Erin.

“Thanks,” she looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, smirk on her face. “No sugar drink for you?”

“I’m watching my figure,” he winks, and Erin smiles down at the cup.

Stevie’s hands are already wrapped around his drink, little fingers gripping the styrofoam. He pops off the lip and sucks off the whipped cream in a few seconds flat, and Jay can only stare.

Erin chuckles as she wipes his face off. “I thought we were gonna be on our best behavior for Jay, right?”

Stevie nods solemnly, sitting up straighter on the bench.

“No, it’s okay. I’d do the same,” Jay assures him, and the boy grins.

“How was work?” She asks, like it’s any other day, just catching up over coffee. Illegitimate lovechild and all.

“Oh, you know. Another day in paradise,” he watches Stevie dip his pinkie in the hot chocolate to drink it and stifles a laugh. “Kim says hi.”

Erin brightens a bit at that. “I’m glad she’s still in Intelligence,” she says, corner of her mouth turning up. “You need some tough ladies to keep you guys in line.“

Jay cracks a smile. “She’s good at that.”

“I worried about her, a little. Just… It’s hard to do that job, and not lose your light.”

He wonders when Erin feels her light was lost. When she thinks his own was snuffed out.

“You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he still worries about her half the time; worries about all of them, his little makeshift family that he’s always on the verge of losing. Sooner or later, if the job doesn’t get you, maybe the weight of it all does.

“After what happened with Al, I…“ Erin trails off, biting at her bottom lip. “That must have been….”

She doesn’t finish the thought, but he knows what she means too well. “Yeah, it was,” Jay rubs at his chin. “I mean, for all of us. It was.”

Erin sighs. They must have been too serious for too long, because Stevie cuts in, chocolate stained hands grabbing for Jay’s on the table.

“We saw reindeer today!” he announces, scrambling to hold onto the back of Jay’s hands.

He turns them over, and Stevie’s palms are so tiny pressing into his, leaving little dried chocolate stains.

“Did you?” he chokes out, and he can feel Erin’s gaze intently, so he tries to push back the wave of emotion suddenly pushing through his veins.

He feels like a kid himself, like suddenly anything sets him off. Makes him feel a throbbing in the back of his throat and a heaviness in his heart.

“We went to the holiday village they’re setting up,” Erin grabs a napkin and wipes Stevie’s sticky hands off before reaching for his own, still laying face up on the table. She cleans them in the same motion, and if he’d been any further gone he would have missed the squeeze she gives his palm.

“Two reindeer,” Stevie tells him, squirming closer to his mom. “Right, Mama?”

“Yes, there were two of them.”

“He’d be lonely by himself,” Stevie explains to them. Very knowledgeable about reindeer studies at only three, Jay thinks.

“He would be,” Erin agrees, and she tucks him into her side naturally, rubbing his shoulder. Stevie snuggles in further, eyes drifting closed. Over his head, Erin mouths _“nap,”_ but the kid must have bat hearing, because he pops back up.

“Is Jay coming over?” He asks earnestly, directing the question to Erin. She looks up with raised eyebrows, tossing him a shrug.

“You want to come watch some Paw Patrol?”

“Is that a movie?”

Erin starts to laugh, but Stevie’s already launching a very in-depth look at the program as she lifts him up. He reaches out towards Jay as he’s rambling, and out of instinct Jay reaches back. Erin sets the boy in his arms; he’s heavier than he looks, and Jay’s pretty sure his muddy shoes are kicking at his work shirt. But it’s not like any of that really matters, because Stevie’s leaning into his chest and talking, and his hand rests over his heart, and he wants to press a kiss to the boy’s head.

So he does, and then pointedly avoids Erin’s gaze as she follows them out of the cafe.

* * *

Stevie’s covered the lore of talking police dogs at least twice over by the time they get back to the hotel. He’s stilled in Jay’s lap -Erin drives, and isn’t that just like old times- when they pull up, and she takes him as they get out of the car. They narrowly avoid another family coming out of the hotel, and the parents give him a knowing smile as he tries to whisper an apology.

That must be what they look like from the outside; just a family. 

The elevator ride is silent, and Jay’s too afraid to speak or he’ll set Stevie off again. When they get in the room he’s roused a bit, although his eyes look heavy. He squirms in Erin’s arms, looks back at Jay lingering in the doorway.

“Mama, guess what?” Stevie mumbles sleepily into her neck.

He’s realized that’s Stevie’s favorite game- _guess what? Guess what we ate? Guess what I put in my shoe?  
_

“What?” Erin asks, very familiar with the question. She puts him down gently on the couch and starts on his shoes, fingers deft and much more practiced as she slips them off. 

“Jay’s my daddy,” he says simply, and the air evaporates from the room. 

Erin glances back over her shoulder, locking eyes with him in the doorway. Jay wonders the survival odds of launching himself out the window right now. She turns towards him with a far off look in her eye. He needs to get ahead of this, needs to explain himself, but his mind’s gone blank. She steps towards him, hands gripping those tiny sneakers.

“Right?” Stevie interrupts their stare down, innocent voice ringing through the living room.

“It’s time for a nap, baby.”

“Mama, I-“

“Why don’t you lay down, Stevie?” 

The boy huffs, but Erin kneels back down and scoops him up, setting him on the big bed. She pulls the blanket up around him, settles him on the pillow, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.” 

Jay doesn’t know where he should be in this scenario, so he slides even closer to the wall. His brain is furiously planning an exit strategy, but Erin doesn’t sound angry. She dims the lights and nods towards the hall, so he follows like a good partner.

The door’s left open an inch, and he can see Stevie on the bed, squirming like he’s burrowing under the blankets. 

Erin looks unfazed as she turns back to him, face blank. Not for the first time in the past 24 hours, he wishes he could read her like he used to.

“I just-“

“You told him?” She sounds remarkably collected, voice hovering between a whisper and her normal tone. He expected anger, frustration, but this is too restrained.

“Yes, but- Honestly, I wasn’t sure if he even understood.” 

“He’s not an infant, he understands,” Erin glances back at the boy in the bed. Her face softens, like it's a balm just to see him. “He likes you.” She says it like a concession, almost admitting something she doesn’t even believe.

“I like him,” Jay doesn’t know how else to say it. Are you allowed to say you love someone you just met? He thinks Erin, more than most, might understand that kind of an instant connection. “He’s a great kid.”

She nods. “He is. He’s been the only thing for me, these past years. I haven’t spoken to Bunny since I left Chicago. Or Hank. So, it’s just… Us. He’s my family.”

Jay feels a tugging deep in his gut, like longing and jealousy stabbing him in the belly.

“ _Your_ family,” he lets the comment slip before he truly thinks it through; it’s not fair, but it’s not like she’s been fair to him, has she?

“Jay-“

“No, no, it’s great. It’s fine. I managed to be a deadbeat dad without even trying, so that’s just great for me.”

Erin lets out a groan, and he can tell she’s growing frustrated but he doesn’t know how to stop. Shock has turned to anger and he’s mad, furious that he missed so much. Missed all of it. 

“Can you just be serious for once-“

“I’m being serious!” He shouldn’t yell. It’s not like arguing is going to help them at all here. It’s not going to change the past. 

A door opens down the hall, and he remembers that they’re arguing in semi-public, and the last thing he needs is for some patrolman to start running his mouth that he spends his time off yelling at his baby mama at a mid level hotel chain.

“Four,” he drops his voice, takes a slow breath. “Four years. Nothing.”

“I told you, I made the decisions that I thought were best at the time-“

“Best for who, Erin? For you? Because I don’t think this was best for Stevie.”

Erin stiffens, but it’s too late to take the comment back. 

“I took care of him, I’m his mother-“

“Right, yeah, and that’s all he needs. I know that neither of us grew up with father of the year, but I thought-“ he swallows hard, almost biting back the hope, the dream in his head. “I thought I’d get the chance to be better.”

She looks down at the floor, closing her eyes for a moment. Jay wishes he didn’t feel guilt mixing in his gut right now; who knows what he would have done in her shoes? Alone, estranged from everyone who had been her family for the past thirty three years. It’s not a call he’s ever had to make. 

Erin sinks against the wall, fingers rubbing her face. She gives him a defeated shrug, sad smile playing on her face. 

“You’re right.” That answer surprises him. Erin looks young, leaning there alone in the lamplight. Like they’ve just met on Intelligence again. Like it’s 8 years ago. “I should have told you. And I’m sorry I didn’t. I was scared, because of how we’d left things-“

“How _you_ left things.” It’s one of the meaner things he’s said tonight. Erin doesn’t flinch, eyes narrowing on his face. 

“You left first,” she says, an elementary school argument that still makes his gut twist. 

He’d spent the better part of a year imagining how things would have been different if he hadn’t walked out of their apartment that night. This might be the biggest what if he’s had to face in a while.

“Yeah,” he whispers, the admission disappearing between them. 

Erin heaves a sigh. Deep, soul-tugging. It feels like the weight of four years and everything that went wrong before that.

“I’m really sorry, Jay,” her voice cracks on his name, and it’s one of the worst things he’s ever heard. He wants to comfort her, which is a bizarre thought, because two minutes ago he wanted to scream about injustice and secrets and losing three years of his son’s life. 

She glances back up at him, and her eyes are red. He doesn’t want her to cry; fuck, he doesn’t want to make things worse. But this is just how it is and he doesn’t know how they work back to where they used to be. If there’s a way back at all. 

“Flight’s tomorrow, at 10.” She’s steeled her voice again, shut off whatever he just shook loose inside her. “If you want to come say goodbye.”

 _Goodbye_. 

“For how long?”

Erin shrugs. “I don’t know. I have time off in February. Maybe then.”

Three months. That feels an eternity, but he supposes it’s better than nothing. Better than three more years.

“Okay,” he shoves his hands in his pockets, tightens up. “I’ll see you guys off tomorrow, then.”

She nods. It looks as if she’s going to say something else for just a moment, but she shakes her head and pushes open the door instead. Jay gets another look at Stevie in bed -peaceful, quiet, serene- before she glances back with red-rimmed eyes and shuts the door.

* * *

“You know, between the two of us, I always felt like I would end up with the secret kid,” Will swirls his glass thoughtfully, eyebrows crinkling.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I mean, you were the careful one." He grins, taking another sip. "I'm just a little surprised you got the call before me."

Jay snorts, and his brother claps him on the shoulder.

"Seriously, though," Will tilts his head, smile dropping from his face. "How are you feeling?"

That's a difficult question at the best of times, but right now especially it feels inadequate in all the ways. He feels a dozen emotions at once, each competing for dominance in his mind as he thinks over the past four years of his life. All it feels like now is lost time. Maybe that's the worst part.

"I dunno. I have no idea how I'm supposed to feel."

Will shrugs. "I don't think you're supposed to feel any way," he offers, fingers drumming against the bartop. "And however you do feel is... Understandable."

For someone who deals with the rest of the body, Will's always liked to play like he's a therapist.

"Are you angry?" He asks. It's a genuine question, but Jay's first instinct is to lie.

"A little, yeah." He takes a long drink from the bottle, finishing it off with an ease that would worry him under normal circumstances."Mostly I'm... Sad."

 _Sad_ is putting it mildly, because if he thinks about it for too long, it's a loss that shudders through his whole body.

"I wasn't there for him." He knows what that's like, to feel like your father isn't there for you. To lack that kind of support.

"You couldn't have been," Will adds, and it's the truth, only it doesn't make anything feel better at all. "You can't go back and fix things, but you can work on it now. You can be with him now."

He's right, and he's too smart, too rational to be a little brother.

"You know," Will sets down the glass, leans forward conspiratorially. “If you want, you can take her to court-“

“Jesus, I’m not gonna do that.”

“You could! I’m just saying.” He holds up his hands, giving a shrug. "If she's saying you can't see him-"

"She's not." Will hasn't been Erin's biggest fan for a number of reasons, but the idea of petitioning for custody, of getting into a whole legal battle, sounds so far removed from anything that even crossed his mind.

"She hid him for _years_ , Jay."

"She had reasons." It's hard to believe he's sitting here defending Erin after all he said this afternoon, but maybe she's lived her own kind of loss these past four years.

Will frowns deeply. "I'm sure she had plenty, but that doesn't make it right."

Maybe not. Right and wrong aren't really in play here anymore, he thinks. He digs his wallet out of his pocket and lays down a few bills, giving Will's shoulder a squeeze.

"I gotta get up early, so-"

"Thought you're off tomorrow," Will spins around on the stool, and there's a look in his eyes that says this conversation very much isn't over.

Jay smirks. "I'm going to the airport," he says, and he slips Will another $10. "For the advice."

* * *

He meets Erin outside the terminal with two cups of coffee. It was a little surprising to realize he remembers just how she likes it; no cream, two sugars. She takes the cup with a soft smile, and he doesn't know if this counts as any form of an apology, but he really hopes so.

Stevie hangs on his hand while Erin checks them in, and he keeps ducking into his legs to avoid the rushing travelers. Jay pulls him up to get him out of the way, and Stevie's hands somehow go right to the gift in his jacket pocket, pulling out the stuffed animal with delight.

"You weren't supposed to find that," Jay teases, and Stevie smiles so wide it makes his chest hurt. He reverently holds the plush cat in his arms, cradling it like a baby.

"For me?"

"Yeah, for you. It's a friend for Peanut," he offers. Stevie squeezes the toy to his chest, then leans forward and kisses Jay's cheek.

"Thank you," he whispers. Jay strokes his hair, tries to memorize the feel of it in his hands, before Erin comes back beside them.

"Wow, look at that," she pokes at the cat and Stevie holds it closer. "Thanks," she looks up at him, and Jay nods. For half a second, this feels like a real family moment.

He takes Erin's carry-on in exchange for Stevie and walks them down to security, each step feeling somehow further and further from that fulfillment. He goes to get in line, but Erin steps them off to the side. She looks like she's contemplating something for a moment, before she smiles at him. A real, genuine Erin smile, not the fake ones he's seen a million times before.

“Why don’t you come visit?” She rocks Stevie in her arms, swaying with practiced ease. “For the holidays.”

He’s caught off guard by the question, but Erin must read his delayed reaction as hesitation, because she quickly covers her tracks. 

“If you have plans already, maybe you and Will are doing something, that’s totally-“

“No, no, I’d love to. I’d love to come,” he smiles at Stevie and the kid beams back, sleepy eyes blinking slow. “I see Will all the time. I wanna see you guys.”

 _Stevie_. He wants to see Stevie, obviously, but it’s not like Erin won’t be there. And maybe a part of him has liked this past week because it felt almost like old times; being with Erin, listening to her make jabs about Chicago drivers and lament the slush on the ground. 

“Great.” The boarding call comes over the speaker again, and Erin glances over her should. “We should-“

“Yeah,” he gives Stevie’s free hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Erin waves his hand goodbye as they get in the growing line, disappearing into the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not for nothing but this fic ended up way longer than i wanted :<

Somehow he comes into work Monday morning and it’s like everybody knows.

He didn’t tell the squad- didn’t know how to begin, honestly. He doesn’t know how they all find out; he thinks Upton put it together maybe three seconds after he got all sweaty meeting Erin in the district lobby. Ruzek’s crap at keeping secrets, so he might as well have blabbed to Atwater, and Voight, and half the patrolman.

Voight doesn’t say anything. Jay wonders how he feels, being kept out of Erin’s life for so long. He wonders if he wants to meet Stevie. He’s Erin’s family, even now, after everything.

There are 6 pictures on his desk. He clears off years of old junk to fit them, finally moving ancient case files and karaoke night photos to his desk drawer. He fits the frames side by side- Stevie with cake smeared on his face, holding a bouquet of flowers bigger than he is, looking terrified on Santa’s lap at the mall.

Hailey tells him “it’s cute, really,” but after Kevin bumps into the corner and nearly knocks half of them over, he feels a pang if embarrassment righting them all, making sure he can see each one when he leans back in his chair.

Kevin taps one of the frames- the little boy on the couch in a Rangers jersey.

“Oh, hell no,” he mutters, giving Jay a serious look. “You’re gonna let him walk around repping that?”

Behind him, he hears Ruzek laugh.

“I haven’t exactly had much of a say in clothes, okay?” He argues, but Kevin shakes his head, disappointed.

“No, we gotta do something about that,” He promises.

The next morning there’s a tiny Blackhawks sweater hanging in his locker. Once they find out he’s meeting Stevie for Christmas, Ruzek and Atwater both offer to load the kid up with shirts and hats, and it’s so sweet Jay wants to hug them both. Upton and Rojas have hard opinions on where he’s got to take Stevie for pizza, and even Voight offers an extra vacation day, which seems like the maybe the best gift of them all.

They all sign a card for the boy, one of the ones that sings when you open it. Hailey pauses, pen in hand, to glance up at him.

“Is it Steven with a ‘ph’ or a ‘v’?”

Jay takes an embarrassing beat too long to answer “V” in an entirely unsure tone. He texts Erin later to confirm, breathing a sigh of relief as she backs up his answer. That’s pretty bad, right? What kind of father doesn’t even know how to spell his kid’s name?

December rolls to a close and he packs the card, the little sweater, cookies from Will, and half a dozen wrapped toys in a suitcase. It barely fits a change of clothes for him, but that feels far less important.

* * *

Erin and Stevie meet him at JFK, bundled in their heaviest coats. He feels his heart leap from his chest when he spies Stevie standing by the cafe, begging Erin for a muffin. The kid looks up and sees him and takes off like a rocket, weaving through the holiday travelers to launch himself into Jay’s arms. 

It’s like filling a 30 pound hole inside him. He squeezes Stevie through the layers of padding, giving him a quick kiss on the crown of his head before setting him back down. 

“Jay, Jay, guess what?” Stevie’s bouncing on his heels, grabbing for his hand.

“What?”

“Mama said we can go to the park tonight!” He’s bursting with excitement, squeezing Jay’s palm.

Erin’s made her way over to them, and much to Jay’s surprise, she goes in for a hug. It’s a little curt, but it’s something. 

“Hey,” she mumbles in a low voice. “How was the flight?”

“Oh, terrible. Really awful.” She rewards him with a smile, as Stevie tugs on his arm again. 

“They have ice skating and a castle and Santa’s gonna be there!”

“Santa? I really hope you’ve been good-“

“I’m so good! Mama, I’m good, right?” Erin reaches down to swoop him up, and he squirms, reaching for Jay. Little hands clasp around his neck, and Jay adjusts the kid (bigger, he thinks) in his arms. In exchange, Erin grabs his bag out of his hands, fingers soft as they slide over his. 

“Thanks,” he offers, and she only smiles. The terminal’s crowded as they leave, families rushing around, travelers complaining about flights being grounded. He’s glad he made it in when he did, it sounds like the snow’s about to get much worse. 

Stevie’s tugging at his sweatshirt, trying to get his attention.

“You’re staying with us?” He asks. Jay tries to catch Erin’s eye over the boy’s head, but she’s hailing a cab.

“Yeah, I am.” They agreed before, but suddenly he’s realizing that this entails living in Erin’s apartment for the next few days, and that feels way more intimate than anything they discussed over the phone.

Stevie giggles as a car pulls up, burying his face in Jay’s neck. Erin glances back at the two of them, and the expression on her face is something entirely new.

The car ride is Stevie pointing out dogs on the street and Erin urging him not to get his feet on the backseat. They pull up to a large building and Stevie jumps from his lap to say hi to the doorman. Jay watches him gesture animatedly to the man, hands waving all around. Erin helpfully dumps his suitcase in his arms, nodding towards the building.

“Look!” Stevie’s pointing back at him, so he steps up behind him.

“Hi,” he offers, and Stevie leans back into his legs. 

“This is my daddy,” he says softly, and Jay likes the way those words sound out of Stevie’s mouth. He holds out a hand and the door man chuckles, shaking it.

“Jay.”

“Tom. I’ve heard a lot about Steve’s dad,” he informs him, and the kid turns to burrow his head in Jay’s legs.

“Really?” That sounds... Bizarre, as a sentence. But a good bizarre, for sure. One he wants to get used to.

“Talked about you all month,” the doorman promises with a grin. Stevie scurries towards Erin, embarrassed or tired, or both.

Jay feels the lump returning to his throat, and getting weepy in front of a man he’s just met really isn’t high on his to-do list, so he just gives another nod and follows Erin inside.

The building’s nice; big lobby, wide windows. Erin’s gotta be doing well in the bureau. Her apartment is spacious, filled with kids toys and even a little tree in the corner, decorated with tinsel and lights. It looks homey; maybe homier than their shared apartment ever did.

“So, you get the whole couch,” Erin slides off her scarf, pointing to the sofa.

“Whole thing?”

“All you,” she chuckles. “Just don’t leave your shirts everywhere.”

“When have I ever-“

She silences him with a look, shaking her head.

He props the suitcase next to the arm rest, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Look, Erin, I can get a hotel, I really don’t-“

“It’s fine,” she smiles tightly. “Stevie wants you here. He only asked for it about two dozen times.”

Of course. This was for Stevie. Definitely _not_ because she wanted him around, because that's a door he can't even approach right now. Can't even find the right floor to get off on.

“If it gets weird-“

“Why would it get weird?” She’s wearing a half-smirk that tells him she’s more than capable of answering that question, that she has a very good idea about why them living together again after four years might just feel a little strange.

“Right. It won’t,” he agrees, and Erin quirks an eyebrow.

Stevie rushes into the living room with his stuffed cat in his arms, bowling past Jay’s suitcase.

“His name’s Greg,” he deposits the toy in his lap.

“That’s a really good cat name,” Jay agrees, noting how warn the stuffed animal’s already become over the past few weeks. It’s squished in the face, like Stevie holds it against his chest.

“Greg the cat,” he holds the animal up for inspection and Erin comes up to grab Stevie from behind, making him shriek with delight.

“Why don’t you show Jay your room?” She sets him back on the ground and the kid takes off, rushing down the hall. Jay stands up to follow, and as he passes through the living room he notices the baby pictures on the wall, the portraits of Stevie smiling, toothless and happy. 

Not for the first time, he wonders what it would have been like to be there when he was born, to be the second ever person who got to hold him. To have not missed a second of his life, let alone three years.

Stevie’s talking to the cat when he enters the room. It’s fit for a three year old; his name is painted on the door, and the walls are decorated with colorful shells. The bed is a little race car, and it’s maybe one of the cutest thing’s Jay’s ever seen. Plastic wheels on the outside and everything. He’s got stuffed animals lined up along the walls, and a bedside light that glows a soft yellow. Stevie points to each toy as he names it, but there’s no way Jay’s going to remember that later. He shows off his construction set and all his books proudly, pointing out the ones he wants Jay to read him later, but only if he can do the voices.

“I can definitely do that,” he promises, and Stevie beams. 

“I think,” Erin sounds from out in the hallway, craning her head to look into the room. “It’s naptime for somebody.”

Stevie looks at him accusingly.

“Oh, I have no say in this,” Jay tells him, and the kid gives Erin a pout.

“C’mon, Stevie. Little nap,” Erin turns the bed down, patting the mattress. “And then we get to go to see the ice show, right?”

Stevie thinks on this for a moment before accepting her terms. He crawls into bed, settling down on his side to look over at Jay, still seated in front of the tiny bookshelf. Jay smiles at him, watches the boy squeeze his eyes shut, like he’s willing sleep to come as fast as possible. 

He stands and follows Erin out of the room. Just before the hall, he catches site of an engraved plaque on the dresser- _Steven Henry Lindsay, 6 lbs, 8 ounces_. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to leave Chicago behind after all. 

* * *

Stevie takes the world’s shortest nap while he gets a shower, washes off the remnants of the plane. They get dinner at Erin’s favorite pizza place, where Stevie eats two full slices of cheese and asks for several bites of their meals too. Erin says he eats like a horse. He’s rubbing his belly on the way out the restaurant, and Jay laughs out loud. 

The park’s been decorated with a thousand Christmas lights and ice statues, broke college kids dressed up like elves. Stevie takes in the whole thing wide-eyed, begging for hot chocolate and treats. Erin buys him a cider that has to be at least 90% sugar based on the single sip Jay could stand. Stevie runs on the slushy ground until he trips and goes face first into the bushes.

He stands up fine, brushes off the dirt with a smile, but Erin insists on carrying him the rest of the way. 

Jay snaps as many pictures as Stevie will let him; they’ll replace the ones on his desk, set his new phone background, be included in the two Christmas cards he sends out this year. Stevie looks so happy, laughing to both of them, working on a giant marshmallow with great concentration.

Erin looks lovely too, he thinks, but it would be far less appropriate to tell her the white lights shine off of her hair in a way that makes her glow just so.

There’s a giant castle at the center of the path, decorated like a gingerbread house, so realistic he definitely sees a few kids try to break off a piece. Erin’s holding Stevie up to the frosted windows to look inside when an employee taps him on the shoulder, holds up the camera slung around her neck.

“Mom and dad want a picture?” She asks, gesturing for them to stand in the doorway. He falters, but Erin plasters on her best fake smile. 

“Sure, thanks.” She slides up beside him, Stevie hoisted in the middle. For a second, he thinks of slinging an arm around her shoulders, but that feels like way too much. Instead, he squeezes Stevie’s shoulder, and the boy leans back against both of them. 

“Adorable.” The woman beams at them. Erin gives him a look out of the corner of her eye for just a moment, before she takes the paper the woman holds out for them.

“Think you blinked,” she tells him, little smile growing on her face. Jay rolls his eyes.

“Thank you,” he tells her sincerely, and Erin glances up at him. “For that.”

She nods, and Stevie’s tucking his head into her chest, eyes blinking slow. 

“I want him to have something with both of us.” She tells him. 

Jay feels that tugging in his chest again, so he reaches out and brushes Stevie’s hair back from his sleepy face.

“You tired, bud?”

He mumbles something in response, too quiet to hear, but Erin nods towards the exit. He calls them a car, not sure he wants to drag a sleeping toddler onto a crowded subway on the weekend. It’s silent back to the apartment, Stevie’s soft breathing and the gentle noise of Erin humming. He doesn’t know how to break the quiet so he doesn’t try, just lets them sit in the dark. It feels nice, maybe. 

Erin hands him Stevie to look for her keys, and the kid’s just dead weight, barely moving as Jay holds him against his chest. Erin gestures down the hall so he carries Stevie to his little room, lays him down gently as possible on that tiny bed.

“There you go,” Jay tugs off his shoes and socks, setting them just under the bed. Stevie’s eyes are fluttering closed again, but Jay pulls him up enough to get on his pajamas. The boy smiles sleepily, hands closing over Jay’s as he pulls the covers up. 

“G’night, daddy,” he mumbles, and Jay feels his heart thrum. 

“Good night,” he whispers back. He lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching his little chest rise and fall, before he shuts the door with a quiet click. 

Erin’s popped open the wine in her kitchen, pouring two generous glasses at the counter. 

“Did he fake it? He pretends to snore, it’s pretty convincing,” she smiles. 

Jay shakes his head. It feels weird- being with Erin, putting a kid to sleep, all of it. Weird in the best way. Weird like he wants to get used to it. 

“No, he’s out for real.”

Erin smiles. “Here,” She slides him a glass, gesturing to the bar stool. 

He sits, a little unsure, a lot looking forward to drinking alcohol. It’s still strange to think about sitting here with Erin, talking about life like they didn’t just ignore each other’s existence for the past four years. 

“How you liking New York?”

“Pizza sucks, but other than that,” he shrugs a shoulder. “Not bad.”

Erin laughs lightly. 

“It was different, you know? Took me a while to get used to being here. Chicago was... All I knew.” She takes another sip, and Jay realizes she’s already got a bit of a head start on him. 

“You like it, though?”

She said she did, the last time they properly talked. The last time before four weeks ago. He can’t remember how he got the courage to call, but maybe it was packing up his boxes in a half empty apartment that made him want to know, selfishly, if she was as miserable as he was. But it was Erin, and she’s always been that good at lying.

“Most of the time,” she says. “Sometimes... It’s not home.”

“So come back.” He’s not had enough wine yet to get into the logistics of Erin’s departure from Chicago, but if she’s not happy here, that makes it all the worse.

Erin chuckles sadly, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“It would,” he’s _definitely_ not drunk enough to be saying things like that right now, but it comes out somehow. 

Erin twists her mouth, looking down at her hands. 

“What would I do?" She asks, skeptical. "Come back to Intelligence?”

“If you want.”

“Hank wouldn’t take me back. And he shouldn’t, I burned bridges,” she tilts the glass back and forth, swirling the liquid. 

“You don’t know that,” he offers. “Or, you could work for the bureau in Chicago-“

“I tried that, remember?” She laughs, but it certainly doesn’t sound like she finds it funny. “It’s not a bad job, here.”

Jay nods. He takes a big sip, trying to match the haziness in his chest. 

“I burned bridges with us, too,” she says softly, and he wonders just how much she drank while he was putting Stevie to bed.

“Erin-“

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she swallows thickly, bites at her lower lip. 

For so long, he wanted nothing more than to talk about it. Talk about her, and how horrible it was to open that door and see everything gone. Her life packed up overnight. Now, he’s spent so long shoving that all deep inside, it’s hard to bring it back to the surface.

“I probably could have called more,” he says, and Erin shakes her head.

“I ran away in the middle of the night. I wouldn’t have called either.”

“I was gonna propose,” Jay says suddenly, and she looks like he might as well have shouted it. He’s embarrassed at the idea now, like his mom’s ring could have been some band aid for the distance increasing between them. 

Erin raises an eyebrow over her glass. “When we weren’t together?”

“Semantics,” he takes another generous sip to try and calm whatever's twisting in his stomach.

To his surprise, she bursts out into laughter. He furrows his eyebrows as she keeps giggling, burying her head in her hands. It’s good to hear, because Erin’s never been quick enough with a real laugh, but he can’t quite tell if she’s finding the concept of them being married so humorous. 

“It would have been classy,” he insists, and Erin looks up at him with those big eyes. 

“I have no doubt,” she agrees.

“Doves. Just, like, dozens. Maybe some peacocks.”

Erin snorts. “We weren’t even living together,”

 _Together_ is a messy word; he’d moved out and still they spent most hours of the day with each other, ended up in their shared bed half the nights anyway. Sometimes it had felt like the only difference was the way he snuck out after, shut the door to an apartment they’d chosen together and went to sleep on his brother’s couch like a normal, well adjusted grown man. 

And now he’s sleeping on his ex-girlfriends couch, the mother of the son he didn’t know about until last month. How things change. 

“I thought that it would be a nice gesture,” God, that makes it sound like he’s sending flowers because she had the flu. “I wanted you to know I still cared, and I-I could have been there for you.”

“That was kind of our problem, wasn’t it? Gestures aren’t the same as just... doing the work,” she downs the rest of her glass, wiping a spare drop from the corner of her mouth. 

Jay doesn’t think he has an answer for that. 

“I gotta turn in,” she slides the mostly empty bottle across the counter. “Help yourself.”

He watches her cross the living room in the dark, shut the door to her bedroom. For half a beat, something in him asks if he should follow, but he shakes that thought off before it can even settle in. 

Jay finishes the wine with ease, downing the last few sips in a single gulp. He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the sudden nerves that make him feel light as he sits on Erin’s kitchen stool, in Erin’s New York City apartment, ten feet from his son and the woman he wanted to marry half a decade ago.

He lays down and tries to pretend the blanket doesn’t smell just like Erin, like flowers he can’t quite name. 

* * *

He wakes up to a face peering straight at him, warm breath hitting his chin.

“Hi,” Stevie whispers loudly. 

Jay reaches out and grabs him, pulling him up into the couch as the kid lets out a squeal. It’s gotta be early; barely 7 if the dark lingering outside is any indication. 

“Good morning,” he squeezes Stevie’s waist and gets a giggle in return. “Is your mom asleep?”

Stevie nods. He shifts so he’s sitting directly on Jay’s chest, pressing sharply into his ribs. It hurts, but Stevie’s smiling, so he doesn’t really want to tell him to move. 

“You hungry?” Jay asks, and his smile grows. 

It’s pancakes for breakfast, mostly because Jay’s not sure how to good much else, and Erin’s cupboards are only slightly more well stocked than her apartment in Chicago used to be. He’d wager she and Stevie do a lot of take out, if the plastic bags and leftover containers are anything to go by. 

Stevie perches on the stool and watches him intently, eyes narrowed in on the pan as Jay pours the mix. 

“Your mom ever make you pancakes?”

Stevie shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“I guess they weren’t very good if you can’t remember.”

“Oh, you’re so rude,” Erin pipes up from the living room, and he turns to see her sidestepping a block tower and his suitcase. She looks cute in flannel pajama pants and an old t shirt, pushing messy hair out of her eyes. It’s so strange to see her like this again; so unkempt, so comfortable. 

“Hey, I’ve had your cooking,” he teases, and she scrunches her face. When Stevie turns back towards him she raises a hand and flips him off, which gets a barking laugh from Jay. 

Erin puts coffee on as he flips the pancakes, and with Stevie babbling in the background, something in it feels too domestic, too gentle. Too right. 

He drizzles syrup on Stevie’s plate as the boy looks with wide eyes, smile growing. Erin leans over the cabinet and watches the kid eat, stuffing piece after piece in his mouth in record time.

Jay nods gratefully as she slides a mug of coffee over to him; fixed, he notices, just the way he likes it. She swipes a bite off Stevie’s plate, chewing thoughtfully. 

“They’re good,” she admits, more than a little begrudgingly. 

Jay smirks back at her. He grabs a fork and tries one off the kid’s plate too, as Stevie gives an angry huff. 

“Stop!” He whines at them, hunching over like he’s trying to protect his breakfast. Erin giggles as she presses a kiss to his hair. She’s leaning over his shoulder, pretending to steal another bite when a ringtone sounds. Jay checks his first, but all he’s missed is a picture from Ruzek of Atwater asleep at his desk.

Erin rushes off to her room to answer, and Stevie stares after her sadly. He sets his fork down, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“What’s up?” Jay leans across from him on the counter.

“Work,” Stevie mumbles down at the plate, breakfast seemingly forgotten about.

Erin comes back to the kitchen, looking too annoyed for it to only be 8 am. “You’re sure?” she’s asking, and Stevie slumps down further in his chair. She gives a flat “got it” and hangs up, her expression mirroring her son’s.

“They need you?”

“There is literally no one else who can do it, apparently.” Erin runs a hand through her hand, dropping another kiss on the crown of Stevie’s head. 

“Isn’t crime supposed to take a break on Christmas Eve?”

“Feel like we both should know that’s not true,” she reaches out and squeezes his forearm, looking entirely too apologetic. Turning her attention to Stevie, she slings an arm around his little shoulders, drawing him in close. 

“And you get to spend the day with Jay, baby.”

Stevie doesn’t look sold on this idea. Jay tries not to feel just a little hurt- he’s not mom, he’s just the guy who showed up one day out of the blue. Clearly second best in this scenario.

“Okay,” Stevie mutters, and Erin kisses his cheek. 

“Good boy,” she tells him. “Maybe you two can go to the toy store? Maybe Jay wants to pick up some last minute gifts.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Jay brought plenty of presents,” he assures Stevie, and the comment barely earns him a tiny smile.

“He likes to watch them make the teddy bears,” Erin suggests, heading back to her room.

“That sounds fun,” Jay tries to encourage Stevie, but the boy’s moping with his chin in his hands, frown stuck on his face. 

“Alright, I know I’m not your mom, but we can have fun together, right?”

Stevie nods sullenly. 

“You’re not convincing me, kid,” he leans forward, tries to imagine a toddler’s idea of a good day. “How about… Toy store, snacks, playground?”

“Cold,” Stevie reminds him, and he’s very right. He probably shouldn’t be trotting a kid around in late winter temps for very long. He thinks he’s gotten so used to the Chicago temps that anything above negative in December feels like a balmy spring day.

“Right, yeah. Well, we can come back here and watch a movie, huh?”

Stevie’s shrugging his little shoulders, resigned to moping when Erin comes back in a pressed pantsuit, clipping a badge to her belt. She looks as official as he’s ever seen her, very different from her days in Intelligence. 

“Thank you, again,” she gives him a grateful smile across the countertop, and Jay nods. “Now, you be good for Jay, okay? No whining, or Santa’s gonna hear about it.”

Stevie nods solemnly. He’s certainly a stubborn one, Jay thinks.

“I’ll see you later, baby,” she kisses his forehead and sweeps out the door, and Stevie turns back to give him a sad look.

“Okay, we’re getting dressed, then toy store, right?” Jay picks him up off the stool and swings him around, earning a light chuckle out of the boy. “C’mon, I promise I’m not so bad.”

Stevie nods. He stands in the living room for a minute, hands straight at his sides, before declaring “No, I like you.”

Jay holds back a laugh. It’s funny to hear him state it so plainly, like he’s making a comment on a book or his new shirt. “I like you too, bud. Go get dressed.”

* * *

Stevie cheers up considerably at the toy store, running the aisles and asking for one of at least everything in the store. He picks out a green plastic dinosaur and begs to take it home for a minute straight, so Jay gives in. He’s got two other Christmases to make up for, anyway. 

There’s a window to watch the employees make toys, and it is indeed very cute, but there’s two dozen other families pressed up against the glass watching. He can’t see a thing, and even if he lifts Stevie up it’s all hats and heads, so they head back out onto the street. Stevie snuggles tight against him, gloved hands reaching into his jacket to warm up.

“You hungry?” He gets a nod in response. “I could go for some donuts. Or we could-“

“Donuts?” Stevie interjects.

“Yeah, you know, like for breakfast-“ He makes a little circle with his hands, a thought dawning on him suddenly. “Oh, Erin hates them. You haven’t had donuts, have you? Alright, we’re doing that.”

Stevie looks excited at the prospect. “Donuts,” he repeats, and Jay nods.

“They’re sweet, you’re gonna love them,” he promises. “Your mom’s gonna be mad at me for this, actually. How much sugar are you supposed to have?”

The kid blinks back at him.

“You probably don’t know that,” he admits. They pass a row of stores, window shoppers stopping every few feet. There’s a line of ties that cost as much as his rent, fancy calendar’s no one would ever use, and series of necklaces. For a moment, Jay pauses to stare at the ones on display; long, gold, dangly. They’re nice, maybe, but he can see others in the store that look better, feel more right for her.

This is a horrible idea. Buying jewelry for your ex-girlfriend? No good has ever come from that. But he opens the door anyway, indulging this very bad plan for just a minute.

The store’s practically empty, which is probably a good thing. He’s the only one who left buying a not-romantic gift for the not-romantic woman in your life until the last moment.

“Looking for the wife?” The salesman asks.

“Um, sort of,” Jay adjusts Stevie in his arms, then shakes his head quickly. “I mean- no, it’s not- just for a friend.”

The man looks a little confused. He comes around the counter, and upon seeing Stevie, goes back to retrieve something else. Jay stands still, regretting this decision more with every moment.

The man comes back to hand him a wet wipe, and Jay frowns. 

“Sorry?”

“For the boy,” he nods towards Stevie, who’s giving an impressive stink eye under his hat.

“He’s fine, thanks.”

“Little boys are often sticky,”

“My son’s not _sticky_ ,” Jay insists, but to disprove his point, Stevie pops off his glove to suck on his pinky finger. He pulls his hand out of his mouth, glad they stopped in here before the donut shop.

“Just make sure he doesn’t touch the pieces, okay?”

Jay sets Stevie closer into him, leaning back from the glass counter. “Okay.”

The employee gives a flat smile. “So, what kind of jewelry does your friend like?”

“I-“ he tries to think, but he can’t land on anything specific. He never bought Erin stuff like that when they were together. He remembers her wearing necklaces sometimes at work, one of two rings when they went out to dinner. She had all those earrings, hoops and studs and everything. She used to pretend to get mad when he’d try to brush her hair back and get it tangled in them all. 

Rings are a hard no, for obvious reasons. A necklace feels safe; something she could wear to the job, at home. Something nice but not… _Nice_.

“Like, a short necklace?” He tries, and the man frowns.

“Color?”

This is already too many questions. He buys things because they work, not because of how they look. He has three of the same shirt in different colors because it’s so practical. 

The salesman is looking as disgruntled as Jay feels right now.

“Just- there was one with a bird on it, up front. Can I just see that?”

The man turns to grab it, and Jay lets out a sigh. Stevie mimics him, although he’s not sure what the kid has to sigh about right now.

The necklace is light gold, a short chain and a tiny little pendant dangling off of it. A little golden bird, delicate and dainty. Two words he decidedly does not associate with Erin, and yet it makes him think of her all the same.

“You think your mom would like that?” He whispers, but Stevie just sighs again.

“Maybe,” he mumbles, sounding very bored to be in a store where he can’t touch anything.

“Maybe? You’re not helping me here, bud.”

“Buying for an ex?” The cashier leans across the counter, shaking his head sadly. “Tricky business.”

_What is this guy’s deal?_

“That’s not... I’ll just take the necklace, thanks.” All of this together has to point to buying Erin a Christmas gift as a _bad_ idea, but he’s already pulling out his wallet. The salesman, for all his grief, wraps it up very nicely in a little red package. Jay slips it in his pocket, figuring that if he chickens out, it’ll be a super weirdly nice birthday present for Burgess next month.

* * *

Erin comes back to the apartment just before dinner, much to Stevie’s delight. He squeals with happiness as she hoists him up, surely wrinkling that bureau approved blazer.

“Did you have a good day?” She asks, peering at him over the couch.

Jay waves from the block fort Stevie’s built around him.

“Yes, we had so much fun!” 

She chuckles down at him, giving Stevie a big kiss on the cheek. “Good!”

Jay tries to stand up, but Stevie shouts that he’s not done building yet, so he sinks back to the rug.

Erin gives him a wink while she sets the kid back down, moving to the kitchen.

“How was work?” He calls as Stevie gets back to the task at hand, lining another row of colored blocks around Jay’s feet.

He hears the sound of a bottle opening, and Erin groaning slightly.

“That bad?”

She laughs loudly. “Yeah, bad,” she pads back into the room, heels gone, shaking her hair out. Stevie proudly points to his block creation and she gives him a bright smile.

“What are we thinking?” Erin asks him, sliding toys out of the way and sinking down next to Stevie. “Christmas Chinese food?”

It’s the strangest Christmas dinner he’s ever had; him, Erin, and Stevie sitting around Erin’s tiny little table, eating lo mein. He can’t remember the last time he had a family meal that wasn’t him and Will drinking a six pack. But it’s nice like this, to ask Erin about her coworkers and remind Stevie the noodles are supposed to end up in your mouth and not your lap. 

There’s an animated movie marathon on some channel, and Stevie conks out during Rudolph. Erin lifts him up and carries him off to bed, disappearing down the darkness of the hall. When she comes back minutes later, he’s shut the movie off, unplugged the lights on the tree. She meet his eyes on the couch for a second, almost asking permission.

“How did you get to _‘so much fun’_ from this morning?” She teases.

“I’m a fun guy.”

“Hm,” Erin smiles, and her dark eyes seem to shine a little in the low light. “Maybe sometimes.”

Jay moves over on the couch as she sits down, tucking her legs underneath her. She props an elbow and looks over at him, little smile on her face.

“I’m glad you got to spend time with him.”

Jay nods. This was the longest he’s been alone with Stevie since they met, which feels like a milestone of some sort. He took care of his kid for 10 hours and nothing too terrible happened. #1 Dad for sure.

“Did he beg for more gifts at the store?”

“Constantly,” Jay shakes his head; the kid’s an adorable little devil sometimes. “I admire his drive.”

“Tenacious,” Erin agrees. “Don’t know where he could have learned that.”

“Yeah, real mystery there.” He jokes, and she bites back a smile.

“He’ll be so excited for any present, really. I think he just likes to open them.”

“Well, he’s getting a lot. Like, Adam and Kevin gave me so much crap. Half of it isn’t going to fit him.” They both chuckle at that. Erin glances down for a moment, gaze shifting. She looks like she's thinking of something else entirely, somewhere far away.

“I got you something,” he admits awkwardly, unsure how she might take that. 

Erin glances up, raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean- small. It’s not-“

“Not a pony?”

Jay clicks his tongue. “Unfortunately, they were sold out so close to the holiday.”

“Damn,” she’s wearing a smile he hasn’t seen in years; teasing, flirtatious. He’s not quite sure what that means, but he’s glad to see it again.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Erin furrows her brows like she’s a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think-“

“It’s fine,” he tries to wave her off, but Erin leans in, dropping her voice.

“I can buy you a kitschy mug in Times Square real quick, those places are usually 24-hours.” She gestures to the door like she’s going to go out, and he laughs.

“I can always use more mugs, actually,” Jay agrees.

She grins back at him, settling against the couch again. “So, when you bring girls back you’ll seem really cultured.”

“The ladies love an ‘I Heart NY’ mug, for sure.”

Erin giggles, hand coming up to cover her mouth, and he feels almost like they’re drinking wine again, like something is making him feel hazy all the same. It’s that feeling that makes him take a stab in the dark with:

“Are you asking if I have ladies coming over?”

She smiles slow, one side of her mouth quirking up. This feels familiar and new all at once, like he’s done it before, but not like this. “Maybe,” she admits.

“Well, not here. ‘Cause this is your apartment, and that would be inappropriate.”

“Oh my god,” Erin rolls her eyes. 

“But, no, I don’t. Not currently. Not a-a specific. Person.” It’s been a hot minute since he went on anything further than a first date. It’s hard, with their jobs and crazy schedules, to form connections with anybody other than the people you work with. And he loves the squad, truly, but going on a date with Adam sounds like a genuinely miserable experience. 

Erin nods. He’s vaguely aware of how close they’ve leaned into each other, of Erin’s gaze flicking down his body. If he was smart, he’d probably put an end to this now, it’s only going to rip open four year old wounds he just barely patched up. But maybe he’s not smart, not when it comes to her. 

“So, if I wanted to do this-“ she’s leaning forward, and he knows what comes next and he’s screaming for it, until her mouth meets his. The kiss is soft and gentle and over in a second, as Erin pulls back and twists her lips, quirks an eyebrow. 

“That’s cool?”

“Very cool,” he tugs her back to kiss her again, instinct taking over as she smiles against his lips. She feels the same; soft skin, gentle fingers sliding up his back, body pressing against his just the way he remembers. He runs a hand through her hair- short, choppy, different- and she pushes away, hand lingering on his chest.

“Do you-“ Erin cups his face, and for half a second he thinks of Stevie holding him the same way. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?”

He nods automatically, body reacting more than his brain is processing what’s happening. 

Erin stands up, extending a hand. Jay lets her pull him up and tug him into her room, door swinging shut behind them with a soft bang.


End file.
